Maspersky

 

Perhaps you have known people in your circle whose abilities go far beyond the accepted norms. I mean those for whom learning a lesson by heart, in a few minutes, is usual

This is nothing. There have been a few geniuses in history who have left a name, a scientific or philosophical work that goes far beyond a gift of memory, lucidity or deep thought. 

Maspersky was still a notch above anything that could be observed in the contemporary human species. I am referring, for the initiated, to those who created the human species and who, naturally, were "built" to reason at heights unknown to us. We called them gods...

This exceptionally gifted man was thus tortured by an evil inconceivable to our mediocre contemporary minds. His problem came from his intelligence, too vast for his human condition. It tortured him.

Maspersky had been born in an unremarkable suburb, made up of bungalows identical to each other. His father was a kind of autistic, employed in the warehouse of a large supermarket in the city. He was a little overweight, a model-building enthusiast, didn't talk to anyone, and led a self-sufficient existence that was not disturbed by his marriage to Maspersky's mother. 

The mother, for her part, was as expressive as a bovine. She had had this infant without understanding, had given birth and had left it in a corner. Only the intervention in extremis of the social services had allowed the infant to survive. 

Maspersky's mother did not work, Maspersky's father, if he did work, did not offer anyone the opportunity to enter his privacy.

His wife was the only person with whom he had shared the few minutes of intimacy necessary to conceive a child. He had let this woman move into the house he had inherited from his parents, which he paid for with his salary.

As soon as the only carnal act had been consummated, he had hardly consented to leave his garage, where he devoted himself to his passion for toy soldiers. He had installed a bed there and slept alone every night, far from the intruder who occupied it. 

The lady stayed alone all day, on a chair facing the wall, never agreeing to go out, even to do the shopping.

Mr. brought back cans of food and pills for himself, completely uninterested in the fate of this woman who had made him a father. 

Social services regularly dropped off groceries at the door.  Madame refused to receive them. She would open the door to get the food, eat and then go back to sit in her chair. There was no more room in the institutions, and social services preferred to have her there than on the street where she had wandered all her life before meeting Maspersky's father.

Maspersky had survived for two years with the help of social services, before he was finally taken away from his stupid parents.  This saved him temporarily.

The incredible potential of this child was quickly detected.

From the very first days, he had shattered all records in terms of learning. The management of the reception center, noting the parental deficiency, had taken the necessary steps to remove the child permanently from his parents. The special services, learning of the existence of this extraordinary orphan, took him away. Maspersky was entrusted to an institution that housed young orphans with exceptional gifts. They were turned into elite soldiers, scientists, and people useful to the government.

At the age of three, Maspersky not only knew how to read and count perfectly, he literally devoured every book in the library of the special school for the gifted that took him in. He attacked, without difficulty, the exercises of the secondary school. What took the predisposed student a few years to learn usually took him a few days or even a few hours.

Of course, he was subjected to batteries of tests which he invariably passed at an astonishing rate. Clinical observation showed that he needed only one hour of sleep per day, that his brain activity was "perfect".

In the specialized institutions for the gifted that took him in, he outshone everyone else. The most gifted, by comparison, seemed to be the last of the fools. For many, it did them a world of good to feel so insignificant.

At the age of three and a half, he won an international chess championship; the following year and the years that followed, he invariably beat all the grandmasters, world champions and other supercomputers that were put up against him.

At the age of six, he was cautiously withdrawn from competitions. The secret services were interested in him and wanted to remove this exceptional being from any media exposure. He passed all his exams with an average of twenty out of twenty.  At the age of 8, he won several university competitions and was already collaborating with research institutes on issues as diverse as nuclear fusion, genetics, artificial intelligence and philosophy.

Everything interested him and nothing seemed to be able to curb his appetite for knowledge. He was a member of several learned societies and pushed the boundaries of knowledge daily.

He did this throughout the first part of his young life, regularly making revolutionary discoveries in all intellectual fields with the regularity of a metronome.

Maspersky, above all, was never a child in his behavior and thoughts. His young age and the secret service protected him from too much media interest, but he amazed the few journalists and all those who met him with the maturity and depth of his thoughts. He was like an old man in a child's body. He knew everything there is to know about a man's life, even though he had no physical experience of it.  Since his hormonal development was normal, he regarded all this with great detachment. 

During his childhood, he wrote books on every scientific and literary subject available, learning a hundred languages. He also filed thousands of patents for industry that put him out of business for good.

After Maspersky was taken from his parents, he had no contact with his biological parents. His mother was placed in an asylum a few years later after she set fire to her house. She had no words to explain her action, as on any other occasion, until her death, which occurred quickly.

Maspersky went to visit him once, at the request of one of his teachers who thought she was doing it for his own good. He was barely seven years old.

He did not approach this mother, but simply observed her and the other patients behind a glass window for a moment. He knew that she was his mother, but that nothing would ever exist between them.

He talked a little with the doctors and the staff, without mentioning his mother at any time. Since he already had a thorough knowledge of the state of psychiatric research, the interview was valuable to the professionals on site. They found, like everyone else, that Maspersky was "unique," but could not really pinpoint their diagnosis.

This boy knew everything about them, could guess their innermost thoughts, and could outsmart them. A conversation with him was almost telepathic, because he was able to describe their lives, their choices, their thoughts and their intimate convictions.

He spoke to them as if they were children, softly, patiently answering their questions, and then suddenly withdrew, indifferent. He knew everything about them, they were left naked. 

At the same time, Maspersky asked to see his father. Maspersky was content to watch him walk down the street. An educator had taken him there, at his request, in front of the warehouse where his father still worked? It was time to go out.

Maspersky's father went out, as he did every day at the same time.

The young Maspersky stayed in the car, watching him. The educator suggested that he get out and have a word with his father. Maspersky did not move, did not answer. He watched his father's figure disappear around the corner. "Thank you, I've seen enough. Schizoid, isn't it?"

He enunciated his progenitor's complete medical record, as if he had held it in his hands. He never wanted to see the man again, and never spoke of him again.

One should not imagine that Maspersky was devoid of feelings like his parents. It's just that, since emotions are a useless brake on intelligence, he never used them.

Of course, Maspersky had an advantage over everyone he met. He was not, strictly speaking, a dominant person, but he would dismiss any vanity with a word, exposing the springs of the soul, ambitions, calculations. He played forty moves ahead in all his interactions. He had this particular way of observing and recording the most subtle details of a person. A look, a breath, a stiffness told him about you, your past, your potential. If he felt like it, he would tell you about your past, your life, your mistakes and even your future health problems, as if he was reading from a book.

He was never wrong, he guessed everything, seeming to have the memory and the wisdom of the world.

With such gifts and an environment like ours, he played. He played with desire.

He tried his hand at sexuality as soon as he was physiologically able. For, in this respect, he functioned like everyone else.

There was no lack of educators who were literally bewitched by this very young adolescent who possessed them body and soul much better than a Casanova. 

Maspersky, even as a young man, had a pleasant, scientifically maintained physique, but it was his look and his words that were irresistible.  Many of the women around him were going mad with love, their senses were excited, uncontrollable.

They had to be removed quickly, which soon caused problems for the government services around him.  They thought of surrounding him with elderly women and men. But he objected. He brought so much to the scientific and military services that they gave in to him, supplying him with an industrial quantity of young people who could satisfy him.

He was not interested in love, which he considered useless, but pursued his sensual quest, as many bodies, looks, smells and circumstances as he could find.

As for the intellectual quest, he seemed to have no limits. With him, there were no oaths, there was only seduction then enjoyment until exhaustion. He left his conquests sensually exhausted, ashamed to have given everything of them to a breath.

He was never brutal, simply elusive. He probably remembered them all, everything they had experienced together, the most insignificant details of their lives. He had enjoyed talking to them, seducing them, possessing them. But when he knew everything about them, they no longer interested him.

A little later, he tried his hand at gambling; by the time he was barred from entering all the casinos on the planet, whose coffers he invariably emptied. He then became interested in the world of international business, attracted by the unusual profiles he met there.

He quickly became immensely rich while managing to remain anonymous, which earned him the esteem of the world's greatest financiers, whom he kept in close contact with.

Many of these people from the financial elite were clever, very fine, brilliant, unique, passionate.  Some sought to retain him to assist them in their immense work. But none of these exceptional individuals was an absolute enigma to him. So he ended up leaving these limited spheres as well. 

One day, when he was not yet twenty, he decided to put an end to all this. He wanted to change his life completely, to try an uncertain life, an everyday adventure, a survival of every moment.

He left all the authorities without taking any time off. Of course, the intelligence services followed him, but no one could force him to continue collaborating.

So he left to live the adventure of the street.

He gave his cell phone, his wallet and his jewels to some poor people he met on the street corners. They laughed and accepted, but took him for a victim. He had to give a cruel denial to the most reckless of them.  Maspersky had obviously mastered all the sciences of combat.

He wandered around for a few weeks, observed from a distance by agents of the services.

He found some interesting individuals among the beggars, the tramps and the illuminated.  But no one offered him a bright alternative. He simply found it stimulating to have to find ways out of difficult situations, to find food and a place to sleep. 

One night he knocked on the door of an apartment in a ruined building in a very dangerous ghetto. A Franciscan monk opened the door, his face closed. He was a middle-aged man with an ungainly face and strong body odor. He had been the last resident of a monastery that had closed for lack of believers and postulants.

Maspersky was cold, he was sweating from the rain.

The man beckoned him into a room and showed him a straw mattress in a tiny room.

There was nothing in the cell, nothing but a cross-stitched effigy of Jesus on a canvas. Maspersky rested on the edge of his bed.

He thought of his younger years, of the destitution of his birth.

There too, there was nothing. Except that man, there, awkwardly represented on the canvas.  Maspersky knew the Bible by heart, as well as the apocryphal books and the other sacred books of humanity.

He suddenly began to think about this Jesus, about what he might have wanted to say to humanity. He thought of all the mysteries, all the messages of the prophets, all the revelations.

All these men and women were trying to explain the inexplicable. What enigmas!

When the taciturn monk returned to place a vegetable barrow at the foot of the door where Maspersky was sleeping, he did not notice that Maspersky was as if struck by lightning.

Maspersky mobilized all his resources to understand the divine enigmas, but he couldn't find them.

He spent the night laughing, then crying with spite, shaking with cold and emotion. The gods were beyond him, he felt an absolute pleasure, a pleasure that vibrated far beyond his human capacities.

The next morning, at dawn, when the monk came to put him out, Maspersky was plunged into a kind of coma, immersed in the divine plane. A wonderful, childlike smile lit up his face.

The surveillance teams intervened immediately; Maspersky was evacuated. A few individuals from the ghetto, completely uninvolved in the operation, were opportunely eliminated on this occasion. They had been wrong to oppose the intrusion of the special forces into what they considered their territory.

Maspersky was taken, unconscious, to the best equipped hospital in the country. He died, a fortnight later, of a kind of stroke that an eminent college of medical professors diagnosed as an "impressive" mental overload.

Maspersky died happy, having finally met his masters."

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